


Seven Days. Three Lattes.

by FortinbrasFTW



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Coffee Shops, Comedy, Holidays, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortinbrasFTW/pseuds/FortinbrasFTW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi would have been just fine bunkering down and making it through the holiday season at the cafe this year without complications, but a certain customer starts to become a regular and Hanji has to go ahead and raise the stakes. Literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monday

When the hell did it get so fucking cold? 

It wasn’t even December yet. What good was fall if it didn’t hold off the bitter bitch of winter with some sense of pride? But no, that’s not really what fall is, is it? Fall’s more of a slow collapse, giving in inch by inch until there’s nothing left to defend from snow and crunch and cold. Well, the least it could do is pretend it was trying.

Levi got inside a hour ago and he’s still leaning into the steamer a little more than necessary, holding longer onto the cups he’s passing over to the “patrons” than he probably should. He’s still careful to put the mugs and to-go cups down on the end of the counter and then push them towards the customers so there isn’t any chance of then reaching out with their greedy little hands and actually touching him when they tug it away. People’s hands always seem sticker around this time for year for some reason.

He leans back against the counter, crossing his arms tight over his apron and giving the place a good look.

Pretty much the same as always: small, cozy, maybe a little cramped during the holidays but never cluttered. There’s more depth to it than width, so there’s a few seat in the window and then the place hollows in, worn wooden floors scattered with armchairs and one couch in the corner, circle tables with smaller sterner wooden seats covering the rest of the space, waiting for the less leisurely of the patrons. 

Hanji’s already decorated for the season, nailing a great big wreath up on one wall and wrapping paper chains of green and red along the low ceiling beams. Levi’s already planning the quickest way he can rip each and every bit of it down as soon as it hits New Years. 

Well, at least it’s not busy. It’s just about 8AM, so the bigger morning group hasn’t filed through yet, and it’s pretty much just the regulars. There’s that group of exchange students that always sits in the corner and goes over their homework together: the blonde girl looking at the world like she wasn’t buy anything it was selling, the tall guy trying to get his legs under the table and weirdly getting worse at it every day, and the other one who gets black coffee and looks like some escaped crossbreed between a gorilla and a swedish underwear model.

Snuggled down into her scarf is the asian girl who always sits by the window and reads for half an hour before her minions get there. Brothers, friends, he’s never been totally sure exactly what they are.

There’s the bald guy who hangs out in an armchair that’s so big it makes him look like some fucked up doll from a cult classic. He’s usually got the Book Review and there’s a chessboard waiting for whoever he feels like hustling into getting his next Americano that morning.

“Not here yet?” A bright voice sounds behind him and Levi can’t help wincing.

He’s never exactly sure how the hell she can be so fucking bubbly at 8AM. He’s starting to think she doesn’t even sleep, just plugs into some recharging station down in the basement at night.

“Who?” Levi feigns, easily ignoring her and turning to wipe down the counter. 

Hanji raises her eyebrow at him like she’s knows exactly what he’s doing, and the worst part is she totally does. That’s probably why he likes her.

“Fine, fine, play it cool,” She says, moving past him to pull her apron on and tie it behind her back. “But he’s a little late isn’t he?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Levi says cooly, tucking the cleaning cloth securely in it’s proper place on the hook under the counter. It will probably be the last time he can find it there all day. For a “prodigy” Hanji has an obscenely hard time remember the proper hygienic places to keep their cleaning supplies.

The bell on the door gives a light ring and Levi looks up a bit too fast. Hanji grins at him like a fucking jackal and he looks away instantly, focusing instead on wiping down the steamer spout with new vigor.

He hears steps approaching the counter and then stopping. There’s a soft shift of fabric as if someone’s put their hands in the pockets of their coat.

“Levi,” Hanji sing-songs from where she’s bent over tugging out more french roast, “Customer.”

Levi sighs, staring down at the shining metal for a half a second an imagining at least three ways to kill her before finally turning.

“Good morning.” The man smiles.

He was right, he does have his hands in his pockets. Which is strange… yesterday he had light brown leather gloves on. Maybe he forgot them today. 

Levi grumbles something that’s probably passable as an acknowledgment.

The man steps a little closer, running his eyes over the menu like he doesn’t see it every morning.

His cheeks are red from the cold outside. Ears too. Idiot. Who the fuck walks around without a hat when it’s 28 degrees outside? His pushed back blonde hair isn’t long enough to even reach his ears. 

At least he has a scarf, tartan, cashmere if Levi had to guess. His coat looks about as warm as those stupid business coats ever do, wool with a tweed-style look to it, the grey collar of his suit jacket underneath peaking out on the edges. 

Green tie. Strange. He usually wears that Fridays.

“What do you think?” The man asks, eyes still tracing the board. “Any recommendations?”

Levi looks up at him, a little higher than he has to look to glare at most people.

“Fuck if I know.” He grumbles.

The man smiles, glancing down again. “No favorites?”

Hanji makes a snorting noise behind the counter. Levi reminds himself to accidentally drop something on her later.

“Double shot latte.” The man says smoothly.

“As usual.” Levi notes before he can stop himself.

“Apparently I’m guilty of habit.” The man slips his hand into his pocket, removing a thin brown leather wallet and sliding a crisp five dollar bill out. He doesn’t hand it to him, rather places it down on the counter and slides it across so Levi doesn’t have to take it from him directly.

Levi frowns as he pulls it off the counter with the tips of his fingers.

“I thought baristas liked people to pay in cash.” The man notes, eyeing the way he’s handling it.

“Dirty.” Levi says, slipping it into the register. “I don’t know how many strippers thongs have been snapped around this.”

The man smiles, a small slant to his thick eyebrows. “None that I’m aware of. Does that help?”

“No.” Levi says, shutting the register.

“Keep the change. If you’d like.” He says.

Levi grunts and carefully drops the excess into the jar, turning to deal with the order.

The man paces softly in front of the counter, eyeing the people waiting around inside. His hand is in his pocket again, probably around his phone. He always looks at it right after he leaves the counter, but never while he’s there, not even while he’s just waiting with nothing better to do. Levi focuses on the machine, giving Hanji a short kick as she giggles where she’s kneeling next to him.

“You sound like a hyena on crack.” Levi snipes.

“Watch the foam,” She grins.

Levi grumbles turning back and polishing off the drink. Oh wait—

“For here.” The voice comes, answering before he can ask.

Levi glances at him shortly, looking down again to pour carefully into a mug, and sliding it onto the counter.

The man waits for him to put it down and then reaches out an pulls it into his hand. “Thank you.”

Levi nods.

Hanji pops up next to him and Levi can’t help groaning under his breath.

“You’re a little later this morning.” She smiles at the man as he takes a small sip.

“Aren’t you observant.” He notes.

“Only to our best customers.” She returns cheerily. “Isn’t that right Levi?” She wraps an arm around his thin shoulders and tugs him close.

One day, he’s actually going to poison her.

“Early meeting.” The man says, taking a small sip.

“Oh yeah, when’s it start?”

“Just finished.” 

“Wow,” Hanji laughs. “Demanding job, huh?”

“Satisfying.” He answers. He glances at Levi again with a small smile. “Thank you.”

And then he’s moving off to his seat, back in the corner of the room where he can scan the rest of the place whenever he glances up from his phone or his latte.

“Excellent,” Levi mutters, turning away and moving to continue tidying. “Why don’t you just take personal bios at the counter? It would really make all the customers feel more comfortable, very respectful. A+ service.” 

“Just taking an interest.” She answers lightly, pushing her glasses back up her nose. “People like interest.”

“Not from you.” Levi says, cleaning off the spouts. “You’re a creep.”

“Persistent creep,” Hanji smiles, “Give me a few weeks and I’ll know if he’s single.”

“He’s single.” Levi mutters.

“Oh, really?” Hanji whispers, slipping closer. “And how do you know that?”

“Please,” Levi rolls his eyes in her direction. “No one with a stick that massive up their ass needs a boyfriend.”

“Ah, who says he’s even gay?” Hanji notes.

Levi rolls his eyes. “Have you not see the fucking bolo tie?”

“So? Cowboy’s wear bolo ties.”

Levi stares at her levelly. “And your point its…?”

“I think it’s a nice bolo tie.”

“I think it’s a piece of shit.”

“Is that right?” Hanji teases. “And here I thought you liked him.”

“I don’t ‘like’ anyone.” Levi says, finishing on the steamer and heading back to the counter.

“Oh right, of course,” She rolls her eyes, “Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean people don’t like you.”

“Like I said, you’re a weirdo. How many times did you get dropped as a child anyways?”

“Yeah, not talking about me.” Hanji grins, lowering her glasses with one finger and sweeping her eyes in the direction of the cafe corner.

Levi doesn’t look. “Bullshit.”

“Hmm,”

Levi glances over his shoulder. Hanji’s tapping her finger against her lip with a little smile.

“What?” Levi frowns.

“Nothing, nothing,” She says, brushing her bangs out of her face.

“Don’t bullshit me,” Levi glares. “I know that face.”

“What? I don’t have a face.”

“Yeah, you do.” He insists. “That’s the: ‘let’s mix the expresso and mocha together before the drip, what could possibly go wrong?’ face.”

“Well, maybe I was just thinking…”

She trails off, which really means he should turn around and ignore her because it’s exactly what she doesn’t want him to do. But apparently he’s not quite that clever.

“What?” Levi sighs.

“Well, if you’re so sure that’s not going to happen, maybe you want to push your luck?”

Levi narrows his eyes. “And what the fuck does that mean?”

“Maybe you want to make it a little more interesting.”

“Quit the cryptic shit.”

“A bet.” Hanji concludes, snapping her hands down to her hips.

Levi frowns. “What kind of bet?”

“I bet: he asks you out. Within a week.”

“… Are you kidding me?”

“If you’re so sure he’s out of the question why not try and get something out of it?”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Levi snorts. “You’re as broke as I am.”

“I seem to remember you getting scheduled for the holiday rush this year. I know how much you love getting coffee for those shoppers. I think you had one Saturday last year. I seem to have a vivid memory of a woman trying to change her baby on the counter because the bathrooms were too full…”

Levi sighs, leaning back and crossing his arms firmly. Holidays. Who the fuck invented that?

“How do you know I won’t sabotage this?” He asks, rolling his head to one side to eye her.

“Oh, I just have a feeling.” Hanji says, “And maybe I trust your honor.”

Levi glances up towards the corner of the room. He’s settled into his usual seat, one leg crossed over his knee. He takes a small sip and runs a hand back through his hair. Levi looks away.

“Fine. You’re on. One week.”

“One week.”


	2. Tuesday

It wasn’t the best start the day. Petra was late for the first time since she exited the womb, scrambling in at half past nine covered in ten layers of winter clothing and ripping her mittens off with her teeth so she could instantly start working the register instead of Levi, who, according to unofficial policy, was not supposed to deal with the customers.

One late member of their little team would have been fine, if it wasn’t Hanji’s day off and instead they had Mike who was so hung over he could hardly move. Levi had to peel him off the counter and force coffee down his throat at least three times before he started to function like a moderately reasonable human being, or at least an above average sloth.

“I’m so so so so sorry, sir.” Petra scrambles, hands moving double speed to try and deal with the morning rush before it engulfs them.

“Jesus christ, I told you to stop calling me that.” Levi says.

“Sorry, sorry,” She starts all over again, cheeks heating up.

“And stop apologizing.” Levi continues. “It’s giving me a fucking head-ache.”

She opens her mouth instinctively and then swallows and shuts it again.

“And what the fuck is wrong with you?” Levi asks, turning on Mike who’s barely managing to change the filters and refill the grounds. “It’s Tuesday.”

“God is it seriously?” Mike blinks. “That was a long weekend...”

“If you didn’t know what day it is why did you show up at all?” Petra asks over her shoulder before taking another order.

“I don’t know - gut instinct, like lost cats returning to the fold.” Mike waxes dramatically.

“You smell like a lost cat.” Levi sniffs.

“I smell like tequila shooters, breakfast burritos, and the east river.” Mike corrects.

Levi rolls his eyes, going back to the cappuccino that’s warming up his hands. There’s a certain peacefulness to watching the froth catch up around the metal of the jug, building and waving, rolling in a smooth consistent pattern as the temperature gauge kicks slowly upwards. It’s so much easier to focus on that than the droning voices of the customers, the sharp complaints their driving into cell phones while they wait, the way they’re tapping their feet, checking their watches, like their fucking universe encompasses all. But hell, maybe it’s not their fault, maybe everyone’s personal universe can’t help but feel like the center of all existence. It would probably take a pretty big act of god to ever change that.

“Busy morning.” A voice sounds at the counter.

Levi can’t help glancing quickly over his shoulder. 

“Yeah, it’s nuts.” Petra sighs.

He’s got his scarf done up today, tucked into the neck of his charcoal jacket. Black leather gloves today. What a weirdo. Who the fuck has multiple pairs of leather gloves?

The man catches his eye and gives him a small smile. Petra follows his glance curiously.

Levi turns away. Maybe a little too fast, which is fine because the milk’s about to boil over anyways. He just has enough time to swear under his breath before tugging it free and getting the situation back under control.

“Double shot latte.” The man says behind him.

“Coming right up,” Petra smiles.

“Interesting, it’s so crowded,” The man continues idly, “It’s never quite so busy on Tuesdays.”

“Exam season.” Levi says quickly, turning to duck down and grab a mug.

“Ah,” The man answers, “That’s right. Of course.”

Petra takes his money and fiddles his change out of the register.

“Then again, if I was studying I certainly wouldn’t appreciate the chaos of a crowded cafe.” He continues.

Levi rights himself with the mug. “That’s cause they’re not studying. They’re fucking around.”

“Levi,” Petra scolds quietly.

Levi shrugs. “It’s true. If they were serious they’d be balls deep in the library with Hanji.”

Petra sighs, giving the man back his change. “Sorry.”

He smiles, just barely. “For what?”

Levi grumbles over the latte, most definitely not listening.

“He’s just a bit of a cynic.” Petra manages. Bubbling euphemism as usual.

“No,” The man continues. Levi can feel his eyes slip quickly over the back of his head. “It’s refreshing.”

And then he’s thanking her and moving down the queue to wait for his coffee.

It takes Levi a few more minutes than usual because of the crowd to put his drink down on the counter. But he doesn’t seem to mind. His cell phone stays in his pocket.

He takes his gloves off before wrapping his hand around it. Left hand. Weird, since he usually hands him things with his right. But Levi can’t help but notice as he does it that he’s not wearing a ring.

He smiles down at him. “Thank you.”

Levi frowns. “Sure.”

He moves across the floor to where his usual seat facing out from the corner is miraculously still open.

Levi turns back to the steamers. Mike’s smiling at him.

He ignores him.

Mike’s smile gets bigger.

“Something’s wrong with your face.” Levi hisses, grabbing three mugs to finish up the waiting orders.

“Nothing’s wrong with my face.” Mike grins. Still. He scoots next to Levi, still smelling like whatever hell he managed to crawl out of this morning, snatching two of the mugs to do himself. “I just get it now.”

Levi sighs. He really shouldn’t ask.

“Get what?” Petra turns.

“That text I got yesterday,” Mike continues. “From Hanji.”

“She’s deranged.” Levi snaps. “Especially this time of year. You should know that.”

“What was it?” Petra pushes.

“ ‘Taking bets on Captain America and Lieutenant BitterBuns.’ “

“Jesus christ, he’s not Captain America.” Levi snaps.

Mike raises an eyebrow. “Dude. He totally is.”

“I don’t get it…” Petra frowns, sliding a twenty into the register and pulling out change.

“Who? That guy in the corner?” Asks the dark haired kid Petra’s helping at the counter.

“No.” Says Levi. Exactly as Mike says “Yes.”

“He does look like Steve Rogers.” The green-eyed kid notes sternly.

“Private conversation.” Levi snaps.

“Then don’t have it so loud.” The kid frowns.

Petra hurries his change back into his hand. “Thank you! We’ll have that for you in a moment.”

The kid rolls his eyes and moves aside.

“I still don’t get it.” Petra continues, turning back to them. “Who’s ‘Lieutenant BitterBuns’.”

Mike stares at her. “Are you kidding?”

“It’s that guy.” The kid from before breaks in pointing over the counter at Levi.

Levi spins. “I swear to fucking god brat-“

The brat shuts up. Crossing his arms tightly and glowering into his scarf.

“What?” Petra starts. “Levi?! ...But you’re not bitter.”

Mike and Levi stare at her levelly.

She fumbles. “Well… your buns aren’t…” Her entire face is starting to go red, “I mean not that I…. I just…. oh boy.”

“Don’t strain yourself, Pet.” Mike says.

Petra shakes her head as if that’s going to get rid of the color on cheeks and turns back to the customers with a small groan of shame.

“Annnyywaaays,” Mike intones, rolling his eyes and turning back to the tasks in front of them. “I have to say, yesterday I thought she was nuts, but I might be changing my bet.”

“I really don’t give a shit how the hell you two entertain yourselves.” Levi says.

“Ah, so you’re just a hapless participant?”

“Victim.” Levi corrects.

“Right, of course, so you didn’t take the bet.”

Levi shrugs, “So what if I did.”

“What sort of stakes did she raise?” Mike asks, dumping a few tablespoons of cocoa into one of the mugs. “Must have been pretty good to get your attention.”

Levi sighs, he finishes the expresso he’s waiting on and puts it down on the counter before turning back. “Holiday weekends.”

“What? If this guy asks you out you don’t have to work _all_ holiday weekends?!”

“If he _doesn’t_.” Levi corrects sharply.

Mike turns, putting down the cocoa he was working on. The waiting brat pulls his face out his sweater just long enough to glare at Levi as he takes it. Levi simply stares back at him and he balks, scurrying across the floor back to his friends. 

“Wait, wait,” Mike starts, “You bet her that this guy _wouldn’t_ ask you out?”

Petra’s suddenly glancing over her shoulder.

“That’s right.” Levi confirms.

“So you… don’t want him to ask you out?” Mike presses, leaning one elbow on the counter and eyeing him carefully.

Levi holds his gaze. “I really couldn’t give less of a fuck.”

Mike evaluates. “Hmm, interesting…”

Levi sighs and turns back to the machines. “I’m starting to wonder if you know what that actually means.”

Petra’s turning now, the morning rush apparently finally lulling down. “Wait so… you don’t think he’s interested in you?”

“I don’t think he’s interested in anything. Because I don’t think he’s interesting.” Levi says flatly.

“You know,” Mike smiles. “He never comes in when you’re not here.”

“We both have Friday’s off,” Levi says, “So you really don’t know that do you?”

“Hanji said,” Mike says, “And in any case, speaking strictly as a man who enjoys something with a bit more curve, he’s a sexy dude.”

“You’re kidding right?” Levi can’t help turning. “He looks like he looks up innuendoes in an encyclopedia.”

“Yeah, but come on, that’s the point,” Mike continues, “He’s all tidy. All neat and clean and wound right up like some fancy clock.”

Levi squints. “Are you trying to make clocks sound sexy?”

“No,” Mike sighs, “But you’re into that shit.”

“… Clocks?”

“Neat and tidy.” Mike insists. “I think you might want to see what that all looks like a little mussed up.”

“Fuck off,” Levi snaps, turning.

“Seriously, seriously,” Mike continues with a grin, “With his hair all pushed back and combed like that, I bet it looks real good all shoved up and fucked around.”

“Keep it up,” Levi shoots over his shoulder, “Take the bet for all I care, fewer bitchy shoppers for me.”

“Ah, so the bets are still open? Shit, I’m in for that. What about you, Pet?”

“I still don’t totally know what’s going on.” Petra says, finally taking the lull in the crowd to pull her work apron off the hanger and fasten it around her waist. “What’s the bet exactly?”

“That Captain America won’t ask out Levi in a week.”

“He’s not Captain—“

“What? Seriously?” Petra stares. “Who wouldn’t ask him out? I mean—“ and her cheeks start to go that ridiculous red color again, “I mean a week isn’t all that much time.”

“Yeah but he’s been coming in here for at least a month, and if Hanji’s calculations are correct-“

“She _did not_ do fucking calculations.” Levi groans.

“—If the calculations are correct,” Mike continues unperturbed, “Then he’s increased his visits by 50% every five days since he started coming in, and he never comes in when you’re not working.”

“I told you, you don’t know that.” Levi sighs.

“No… he’s right.” Petra says. “He’s never here on Fridays.”

“Maybe _he_ doesn’t work Fridays.” Levi argues.

Mike lifts a brow. “Wow… do you seriously not want a guy who rocks a bolo tie that hard asking you out? I mean I know he’s probably like ten years older than you but still—“

“He is not ten years older,” Levi snaps without totally meaning to.

“Uh, yeah, dude he totally is.” Mike says, stealing a muffin off the top of the stack and taking a bite over it, getting crumbs all over Levi’s side of the counter.

“He’s five years older. At the most.” Levi says.

“I want in.” Petra says suddenly. She flicks her bangs out of her face once and puts her hands on her hips. “I want in on the bet.”

“Alright!” Mike claps, leaning over for a clumsy hung-over high-five which Petra returns neatly. “What’s the deciding factor?”

Petra narrows her eyes at Levi with a little knowing smile. “You want him to ask you out.”

“Yeah,” Levi snorts. “Cause I don’t get enough Burberry and stockbroker stink in my everyday life.”

Petra’s smirk expands. “That’s not a no.”

Levi just sniffs and turns back to the machines.

The day is somehow impossibly colder when he leaves for class at eleven, wind picking up now to make it especially wretched. Although, if he’s being totally honest, he doesn’t mind wretched all that much. It’s a little satisfying to see people hunkered down, boarded up against the cold like they’re at war with it, or rather in a state of resigned defeat. 

He’s only got two classes on Tuesdays, so it’s hardly 4pm by the time he’s rummaging the lock on his apartment open, dropping off his bags and heading down for a second shift. He almost can’t believe it every time it happens. Him. Job. Paycheck. Normal.

But he keeps doing it. Every day. So it must not be all that bad when it comes right down to it. And sure maybe sometimes the “other way” of doing things is way more attractive than it should be, but he’s still walking down the stairs of his apartment building, scarf wrapped tight around his cheeks, and eventually shouldering his way through the back door of the cafe.

The second shift is always his favorite. He’s never been the best morning person. He actually hates the term morning person. Hanji is a complete morning person, and Mike’s a midnight person, and Petra’s a nice bouncy lunch time person. Which leaves him, with the later afternoon shift that he likes the most.

There’s hardly ever anyone around, it’s either the students who actually do care about their studies enough to come in when the cafe is quiet and drink enough coffee to prep for the all nighter they need, or a few quiet regulars who slip in and slip back out. Not a lot of people are eagerly seeking caffeine at 5-8pm. 

This is the time of day when he can finally spend the time he wants to keeping things organized, getting all the surfaces clean, all the odds and ends tucked away. He gets a chance to wipe up the few drips of chocolate Petra always leaves on the floor when she does the syrup, and actually aline the Torini syrups back where they should go instead of wherever Mike found a place for them. He finds whatever random napkins or receipts Hanji has written her latest research breakthroughs on and piles them neatly up under a mug in a corner very far away from the regular running of the cafe.

And when it gets late enough, and the crowd gets thin enough, he can even reach inside his jacket and pull out his preview and lean over the counter, flicking through each page carefully.

The New York City Ballet preview magazine. He gets it every year. It’s an indulgence. He’s allowed to have one. And it’s not a guilty pleasure, he just happens to take it out when no one else is around to notice.

And so what? So he likes the ballet? It’s really no one’s business if he takes a nice quietly pleasure walking over to the stereo, quietly plugging in his iPhone and turning on Tachovsky. It’s no one’s business if he moves his feet under the counter in a few quiet steps as he thumbs over the glossy pages and evaluates the poise and notes the changes in the formulas between this year and last in the productions for the holiday season. 

“Um, excuse me.”

Levi looks up sharply. The blond boy in front of the counter flinches.

“Sorry. I just...”

Levi snorts, sliding the magazine to one side and eyeing him. “What?”

“It’s just… I think someone left this here.” The boy says.

Levi looks down. He’s holding a tartan scarf in his mitten-clad hands.

“Was this on the corner seat?” Levi asks, still looking at it.

“Uh, yeah.” The blond kid says, putting it down on the counter. “It’s nice. I thought someone might miss it.”

Levi stares at the thing for a moment and then puts his hand palm down on the scarf and slides it over to his side of the counter. It’s soft. Silk. But not slippery silk, that raw woven style so it almost feels like a less fuzzy cashmere. He lets his thumb run over the smoothness in silence.

“Um…” The kids starts, eyeing the scarf.

“Yes. Thank you. We’ll hold onto it.” Levi says quickly, turning his gaze up to the nervous face again.

The kid swallows, nodding quickly and trying to get all his books organized in his arms again before heading out the door.

Levi looks down at the thing under his hand for another moment before sliding his magazine back onto the counter. And if he keeps the scarf under his hand, tracing his fingers over the soft slide of the fabric while he reads before finally, gently settling it into the top drawer under the register, well, who’s to know?


	3. Wednesday

Wednesday’s warm enough that people stop caring as much as they should much about letting the door close behind them which should really be punishable by death. He’s had to walk out from behind the counter and all the way across the floor at least three times to shut it properly since he got in at 9am and the next person who does it is getting a very serious glare.

“Hey, who’s scarf is this?”

Levi turns a little too fast. Hanji’s already ahead of him, reaching into the drawer and pulling the thing out with a little curious wrinkle between her eyebrows.

“It’s nice.” She smiles, running the softness of it through her fingers and then pulling it up to her cheek.

Levi snatches it away.

“It’s not a fucking hanky. And it’s not yours.”

“Oh yeah, then who’s is it?” She asks, slipping her hands down to her hips, that stupid knowing smile already spreading across her cheeks.

“That fucking look on your face seems to know already so why bother asking?”

“Who’s scarf?” Petra asks, looking up over the counter from where she’s restocking. “Oh, heyyy, is it Steve Rogers’?”

“That’s not his name.” Levi sighs.

“Mmm, so you know his name?” Hanji grins, leaning back on her elbows and waggling an eyebrow.

“Why do you have his scarf?” Petra asks.

“Jesus christ, when the fuck did I start working with fishwives?”

“I never really got that expression,” Hanji starts as she stares up towards the ceiling. “What would fisherman’s wives have to talk about that’s so interesting anyways? Everybody’s out at sea too often to get up to much… Unless it means’ actual fishes wives, but no that’s too crazy--”

“That’s the point isn’t it?” Petra says, “Their husbands are away so they don’t have anything to do but speculate?”

“Sounds boring. I doubt anyone could be that boring. I bet it’s just something the fisherman made up to convince themselves their wives weren’t all fucking each other.” Hanji grins.

Behind them Levi hears the little bell ring, glancing over as a kid with freckles and some hipster fuck push their way inside. The door swings behind them. They don’t push it closed.

“Jesus fucking christ, is it that hard to shut a fucking door?” Levi groans.

He tucks the ballet preview he was moving into his back pocket, already navigating around the counter towards where the punk ass with an shoddy undercut and a smug smile wafted through.

The fucker looks back over his shoulder as Levi moves to shut it for him. Levi gives him a good glare and the kid actually looks like he might shit himself as Levi swings the door shut properly. Only it won’t shut properly. It’s hitting something. Something tall. Well, someone tall.

“Closing?” He’s not wearing a scarf.

Levi clears his throat, rolls his eyes and steps back, letting him waft inside. The cool air follows him, hidden under the folds of his coat. He smells like the cold, and worn leather, and something almost piney. 

He shuts the door behind him.

Levi turns, heading directly back behind the counter.

“Oh hey-“ Hanji calls, lifting up the scarf in its owner’s direction.

Without thinking Levi snatches it out of her hand and shoves it under the counter before the man turns towards them.

“Yes?” He asks, one thick eyebrow lifting just a touch.

“Oh… I, uh,” Hanji struggles, eyeing Levi and the scarf’s hiding place under the counter back and forth, “Just, uh, hey, you know ‘hey there customer, welcome to coffee!’ that sort of thing.”

The man stares at her for a moment and then turns to the board.

Levi looks over his shoulder with a glare and mouths “welcome to coffee?”.

“It’s your fault!” Hanji snaps.

“What’s that?” The man asks, turning.

“Nothing.” Levi says quickly. “Double shot latte?”

The blonde man holds his gaze for a second and then nods. “If you insist.”

Levi huffs, working the register quickly. Why the hell isn’t he wearing a scarf? It’s not like he doesn’t have at least three. He’s seen them, there’s the Blackwatch pattern one, the grey wool, the woven alpaca—

“To go. And one of those holiday cookies.” The voice breaks in.

Levi looks up and then down. He’s slid a credit card across the table.

Levi frowns, picking it up and ringing him out. “Shape preference?” There’s a whole obnoxious array to choose from: pine trees, presents, stars, fat little misshaped gnome things that must be an attempt at that creep who breaks into people’s homes and eats their food…

The man catches his lip in his teeth for half a second. Levi definitely does not watch that a little too closely.

“Surprise me.”

Levi makes a grumbling noise and grabs the nearest one. It’s a tree. Little sparkling sprinkles dashed along the top of it.

“Here’s your latte,” Hanji smiles, plopping it down on the counter.

Levi stares at her in surprise.

“Oh, sorry, did you want to make it?” She teases.

Levi rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you ruined Christmas.”

The man let’s out a small laugh, wrapping his hand around the latte and gingerly picking up the cookie with a nod. “Thank you.”

He looks back at Levi for a moment and then moves off towards a counter.

“Hey, Pet,” Hanji grins, turning around, “Did you see that.”

“So smooth,” She grins. “Hey, Levi, can you hand me that milk?”

Levi looks at the cartons on the counter. “Which one?”

She lowers her voice. “Surprise me.”

Hanji instantly starts cackling and Petra can’t seem to help joining in.

“Fucking harpies,” Levi grumbles.

“Mike think’s he’s too old.” Petra says, leaning over towards Hanji

“There’s nothing to be too old for.” Levi says.

“How old do you think he is?” Petra smirks at Hanji, ignoring him easily.

“Hurmmm,” Hanji taps her finger against her lip idly, “Forty-two?”

Levi snorts.

“What?” Hanji reproaches. “It’s not my fault you’re into dudes in their forties.”

“He’s not—“ Levi pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “Okay, how about this? If I learn his name and how old he is in the next ten minutes, you have to take my Saturday shift.”

“Hey, hey, we already have a bet!” Hanji insists. “Anyways, I can’t do that, christ you just have to ask him.”

“I can do it without asking him.” Levi says.

Hanji narrows her eyes. “Fine. But no asking _anyone_ , and no leading questions either.”

“Trust me. The last thing I want to do is get into a conversation about the pros and cons of bond investments.”

“What makes you think he’s an investor?” Petra asks.

“He’s rich.” Levi answers.

“You don’t know he’s rich.” She insists.

Levi stares at her levelly. “You do know how I paid for undergrad, right?”

“Uhmm, no…”

Levi sniffs. “Well, you’re about to find out.”

“Levi!” Hanji insists in a sudden harsh whisper. “You can’t - he’s a customer! Don’t—“

The man’s moving, standing up from his seat and heading across the floor towards the table with the napkins, fixings, all the other stuff.

“Too late.” Levi smiles with hardly a twitch of lips.

Hanji makes a grab for him but he’s easily slipping around her and pulling the scarf out from under the counter. He heads for him at a reasonable pace, waits for him to turn his back to put his drink down and—

“Shit--” Levi swears, bumping hard into his back.

The man turns, one eyebrow raised. “Am I in the way.”

“No. My fault, sorry.” Levi says quickly. “I was just coming over to give you this. I think you left it here yesterday.”

“Ah, yes.” The man smiles, looking down to the scarf in Levi’s hand. 

He reaches out, putting his own hand on top of it. Levi waits for him to take it But he doesn’t. At least not right away. He eyes him for a moment, a little smile in the corner of his mouth and something curious in his eyes. And then finally, he’s pulling the scarf through his fingers and wrapping it around his palm.

“Thank you.” He murmurs. 

Levi nods shortly and turns, hurrying back to the counter as the man makes his way past the other patrons and smoothly out the door into the overcast streets with his cup in his hands.

“What was that all about?” Petra asks as soon as he’s back.

Hanji groans. “We’re going to get sued.”

“Calm down,” Levi insists. 

He looks around once more to make sure he’s gone and then slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a thin brown wallet. 

Petra stares. “Did you just—?”

“Sued. Arrested. Forced to make shoes out of duct tape.” Hanji continues.

“You used to pickpockets!?” Petra gapes.

Levi rolls his eyes at her as he opens the wallet neatly. Everything’s exactly as organized as it should be. It’s very thin, only two cards and his license. He opens the fold, nodding silently. He turns the opening in Petra and Hanji’s direction, carefully flipping through the three hundreds and two twenties inside.

“Okay, fine. He’s rich, but he could still be—“ Hanji starts.

“Thirty seven.” Levi says neatly, reading off the license.

Hanji huffs, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she blows her bangs out of her face.

“What’s his name?” Petra asks.

Levi looks up. “What?”

Petra smiles. “His name? What is it?”

Levi squints, looking back at the license and silently pretending he hasn’t read it three times already. Weight: 190. Height: 6’ 2”. Name…

“Erwin.” He says.

“Erwin,” Petra repeats staring out into space. “Sounds… responsible.”

Levi snorts. “Sounds like a crocodile fucker.”

“I think you mean hunter.”

“I know what I said.”

Hanji rolls her shoulder against the expresso machine, lowering her head to eye Levi over her smudged glasses. “Saturday.”

“Nine to five.”

“Awesome.”


	4. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but posting another tomorrow <3

Thursday’s wet. And cold. Again. Which would be fine if he could enjoy the lull in the crowds properly, but he can’t seem to find his magazine, which is just prefect for a still afternoon with the rain drizzling outside and no customers in sight and nothing but Mike’s quiet snores from where he’s passed out on the other end of the counter to fill the space. 

Levi pops down to his knees, looking under the register where Hanji stows her sad excuses for bookkeeping. There’s always a chance she might have found it and stashed it. She’s probably hidden it so he’ll have to ask her if she’s seen it and have the entire conversation that question would require. 

He sighs, pushing aside the receipt papers and extra time sheets, peering into the distant dark of the shelf.

“Looking for something?”

Levi looks up instantly. 

He’s leaning over the counter, looking down at him with that same small smile, thick eyebrows raised just slightly in interest.

Erwin. That’s his name.

Levi stands up quickly, brushing off his knees with his cleaning cloth. “No, it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? Seems like you might be looking for something.”

“It’s fine,” Levi insists. “What can I get for you?”

“Oh, nothing.” He says. “I just think I might have left something here yesterday.” He pats a his pockets with an almost theatrical distraction.

Levi nods. “You did.”

He opens the drawer under the register, pulling out the wallet.

Erwin reaches out for it directly, placing his hand overLevi’s to take it back without waiting for him to place it down on the counter. Levi freezes for half a second, waiting for him to take it back. But he doesn’t. He holds his stare for a second, maybe two, before finally easing it out of his hands and straightening his posture.

“I must be rather absent minded.”

Levi huff something he thinks might pass for a reply.

Erwin watches him for a moment longer and then turns towards the door. “Thank you for finding it.”

Levi can’t seem to say anything. 

Erwin’s leather gloved hand (brown today) grabs the door to pull it open, “Oh, that’s right,” He stops, turning back and reaching inside his coat.

“I forgot. I found this.” He takes two steps back to the counter and smiles as he pulls out a small magazine and slides it across the counter.

Levi stares. He can just see the N and the A of “New York City Ballet” between Erwin’s splayed fingers on the cover.

“It must have fallen out of someone’s pocket I suppose.” Erwin says casually, furrowing his brow down at the magazine with mock-concern.

He glances back up at Levi with that same small smile. “Perhaps I’m not the only one who’s absent minded.”

Levi opens his mouth, because he really should say something. Anything really. But nothing’s coming out. So he shuts it again, and looks down at the counter.

He doesn’t look up again until he hears the bell on the door as it swings shut.

“Did I win?” Mike’s voice sounds, barely audible where his head’s buried in his arm.

Levi frowns down at the magazine. Carefully, he slides it off the counter and puts it neatly in the drawer.

“No.”


	5. Friday

He has class at 8:00am. He doesn’t go. It’s Friday. People shouldn’t be allowed to do shit on Fridays. People probably shouldn’t be allowed to stay in their pajamas until 11AM, padding around their apartment, not being able to decide what the fuck to do with themselves either come to think of it.

He didn’t sleep all that well. Stupid really. There’s no reason for it. He probably just ate something weird. Hanji probably mixed up her forensics samples again in his bathroom without asking him. 

Probably.

It’s more likely than the other thing anyways. The thing that is definitely not making him feel guilty and stupid and childish. And so what anyways? So he took a guy’s wallet. It’s not like he robbed him or anything. He just looked at it. He might have dropped it himself and Levi might have picked it up like a responsible human being. It was just as likely. More likely.

And he could have dropped his magazine. Just as likely. More likely.

Only he definitely didn’t. And he definitely knew that.

And walking around the house really isn’t going to change shit. Neither is cleaning the bathroom for the third time that week. He needs to stop doing that when he doesn’t know what else to do anyways or else his fingernails are going to never stop smelling like bleach.

It’s still cold out on the street, cold, and crisp, and bright. He squints as he steps out into it, shouldering his scarf up around his ears better and digging his hands into his peacoat, glaring back at the sky. 

If it was going to be cold, at least it could be overcast. Sunny cold days were just bitter by nature. The sun didn’t feel warm, just bright, and when you wanted to stay inside because you didn’t feel like freezing your balls off it stared in the window at you and insisted you were missing something.

He heads to the park without really thinking about it too much. Somehow the cold feels a little more natural there. It doesn’t whip and slant down across the steel of the buildings like it’s being channeled directly down onto the shoulders of the dumb masses hurrying away from it over the concrete. Here is feels like it settles, calms down, knows it’s where it should be, with the skeletons of trees, and the grass that’s still green even though it knows that’s pretty pointless by now.

It smells like cold and dirt and drifting through the thinest of those scents is the aroma of hotdogs and nuts and whatever the hell else people are willing to spend money on to keep their hands warm.

The pond has the thinest shine of ice over the top of it, giving in some places to show water that’s gone black with cold and depth. There’s a boy standing off to the side, throwing sticks across the surface. Some of the smaller ones skitter across. The larger dunk through the slushy coating, bobbing against the surface.

Levi snuggles his nose down into his scarf, eyeing the spread of the dark water. Where do the ducks go? What a stupid question.

He let’s his eyes trace over the edges, past the kid who’s somehow finding an endless supply of stuff to chuck at the lake with apparently zero parental supervision. There’s an old woman in a purple parka hunched over on a bench watching the kid with a small smile. There’s a pile of rags, probably with a person under them, spread over the next bench, curling in against the cold. There’s a man in a tweed coat with a silk scarf, one arm slung over the back of the bench, the other holding his phone. There’s a couple of teenagers sharing a pair of earbuds.

Wait…

Shit.

Apparently he hasn’t noticed him, which isn’t surprising, since it’s a giant fucking city and it’s pretty insane that Levi’s even noticed him. He’s just sitting there, typing something out on his phone, blond hair pushed back like it always is. No hat. Ears red. Stupid.

He’s not going to go over there. 

He’s going to think he’s stalking him. Stealing his things, learning where he lives, and straight up stalking him. Probably planning on murdering him in an alleyway and robbing him blind, or taking his keys and getting into his apartment before he gets back from wherever the hell he works. Or just creeping around in general with no real concrete intention, which is way _way_ worse somehow.

He’s not going over there.

Levi sighs, squinting at the lake. The kid’s found a lost sneaker. It skids for two seconds before slipping right into the water, bobbing for two seconds, and sinking down into the dark.

Fucking Hanji. 

It takes him about thirty seconds to get there.

“I’m not following you.” 

Smooth. Really smooth.

Erwin looks up, eyes wide for half a second in surprise. “Ah.”

“Yeah.”

His face relaxes slightly, shoulders loosening back as he slips his phone into his pocket. “Not at the cafe today?”

“I have—“

“—Friday’s off.” Erwin finishes. He smiles. Slight. Clever. “I’m not following you.” He says, just enough mock in his voice.

Levi levels a look. Erwin doesn’t seem to mind.

“I stole your wallet.” Levi says.

“Not sure it counts as stealing if you don’t actually, you know, ‘steal’ anything.”

“It still counts.” Levi says.

Erwin shrugs.

Levi hears a decent splash behind him. Maybe the kid managed to finally pry that rock off the ground.

“I’m curious,” Erwin says. “Why did you ‘steal’ it?”

“To win a bet.”

“Which one?” Erwin asks.

“Hanji thought you were forty-two.”

There’s that small smile again. Levi’s not sure, but he’s starting to think he’s starting to hate that. It makes him think about things he definitely doesn’t need to think about.

“And you didn’t?”

“No,” Levi says. “I said more like forty-seven.”

“Mm, too bad for you.” Erwin says, face not giving an inch.

“Too bad for me.” Levi repeats.

Erwin leans back, letting his knees fall apart in a relaxed fashion, stretching the grey suit fabric just that much tighter and pulling them up enough to see his socks above his oxfords. Blue. Like the tie.

He looks at Levi for a moment longer. 

He stands up, adjusting his coat to get it in place. “She’s your friend?” 

He starts walking. For some reason Levi does to. “She’s a lunatic.”

“I hear sometimes lunatics have friends.”

“Lucky for the friends.” Levi snorts. 

Their steps crunch just enough to notice over the dirt on the path. Erwin slips his hands into his pockets. Leather gloves. Brown. Again.

“She’s too smart to be normal.” Levi says.

“Mm,” Erwin nods. “What does she do?”

Levi looks at him sideways. His ears are still red from the cold.

“I mean,” He clarifies, “Besides make coffee.”

“There’s nothing wrong with making coffee.”

“I didn’t say there was.” Erwin says instantly.

A breeze picks up across the park, rattling the few remaining leaves on the ground across the path. Levi tucks his chin deeper into the warmth of his scarf.

“She’s a forensics PhD.” Levi says. “With a focus on chemical compounds and psychology.”

“Diverse.” Erwin notes.

“All fucking over the place.” Levi says. “Her grad thesis was on previously unexplored poisonings of pharaohs, relations to deity complexes, and the inherent syndromes of systemized slavery.”

Erwin actually lets out a short laugh and Levi looks up at him.

“I thought she seemed interesting.” He smiles.

Levi turns back to the path, watching as the leaves crunch under his feet. “She is.”

“How do you know her?” 

“She told me to go back to school.” Levi says. For some reason. God, maybe he really did eat one of her experiments. “And I did.”

“How’s that?”

“Dull.”

Erwin nods, turning his face up slightly to squint against the brightness of the day.

“Do you want to get coffee?” He asks suddenly.

“I hate coffee.” Levi says.

“Do you want to get a drink?”

Levi looks at him. “It’s 3:30.”

Erwin looks back. “Do you want to get a drink?”

Levi squints. “What the hell do you do anyways?”

“I’m a securities analyst.” Erwin says blankly.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I analyze, securities.” Erwin says, that little smile sneaking back.

Levi evaluates him for a moment. He turns back to the path, the thin layer of small stones and dirt over the cracked concrete. He looks over his shoulder. The kid’s distant now. Barely there at all.

“I could drink.”

 

This doesn’t count. Definitely not. It’s a drink. A drink is not ‘out’. A drink could be anything really. He hasn’t lost anything. It’s not nearly explicit enough to call it anything, much less a loss. And he probably shouldn’t even be thinking about. Thinking about it would sort of weigh in favor of the loss part, but thankfully that becomes a lot easier when Erwin neatly pushes the door open and the smell of stale beer and a variety of other things wafts out at him.

Levi stares inside. “…Seriously?”

Erwin holds the door. “Problem?”

“Not what I imagined.”

Dingy is a pretty stark understatement. It’s almost _misty_ inside, which is definitely impossible on an atmospheric and a legal level. But the floor isn’t too sticky, and at least it doesn’t smell like vomit. The sound of pool balls echo around, mingling with gruff voices and the dull familiar noise of heavy bottom glasses hitting lacquered tables.

“We can go someplace else.” Erwin says.

Levi rolls his eyes and pushes past him. He still smells like pine. Weird.

He finds a reasonable looking stool and hops up onto in, unweaving his scarf as Erwin settles next to him and grabs the bartender’s attention.

“You have me at a disadvantage.” Erwin says.

Levi looks over his shoulder. “What?”

“You know my name, I’m assuming. If you know how old I am. And when my credit cards expire.”

Levi eases his coat off of his shoulder. “Why do I get this feeling you already know mine?”

Erwin smiles. “We could just pretend to be normal people.”

Levi leans back stiffly crossing his legs under the bar. “Levi.”

“Like the Hebrew?”

“Like the Hebrew.” Levi confirms with a sigh.

“Wandering priests, revenging sons, destroyers of cities?”

“Some sort of bullshit.” Levi says. “Honestly, it’s been long fucking time since I went to temple.”

“Maybe not long enough?” Erwin asks.

“That’s right.” 

Levi gives his order to the bartender, eyeing the questionable condition of the cleaning cloth on his apron all the while.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Aren’t we pretending to be ‘normal people’?”

He gives his drink order and then turns back. “Erwin.”

Levi eyes him. “Like Desert Fox?”

“Exactly like that actually.”

“Who the fuck names their kid after a Nazi?”

“History professors.” Erwin says. “And I don’t know if you’re technically a Nazi anymore if you ignore orders to murder jews and prisoners and try to assassinate Hitler.”

Levi shrugs. “Fair enough.”

“A little ironic though.”

“What? Jewish princes and German commanders?” Levi asks. “I’m still making your fucking coffee apparently.”

Erwin actually laughs sliding his drink into his hand. Something amber and smoky smelling. Scotch probably. He’s probably one of those weirdos who likes his drinks to taste like fireplaces.

Levi’s not sure how much time passes. He knows that what little light makes it through the thin windows by the door is even thinner. He knows his head is starting to feel like it weighs about ten more pounds than it’s supposed to, and his posture’s gone a little loose and leaning, which isn’t something that normally happens after less than four drinks.

“What are you studying?” Erwin asks.

Levi looks up hazily. “Hm?”

“I didn’t ask before. What are you studying?”

“Uh, zoology.” He says. 

“Really? How’s that?”

“Not a lot of people.”

“And how’d you meet, what was it? Hanji?”

“She was dissecting shark rectums.”

Erwin turns. “Excuse me?”

“It was while I was taking some undergrad classes, years ago. I told you. She’s insane. Apparently there’s some biological compound in shark rectums that reveals new data about cell structures that can help in the recovery of stroke patients.”

“Interesting.” Erwin nods.

“Weird.” Levi corrects.

He leans back to take a sip. Suddenly, someone smashes into the back of his seat. He slumps forward, the drink knocking in his hand and spilling down the front of his shirt. 

“Hey!” Levi snaps, turning instantly.

There’s three guys. Drunk obviously. And judging by their jerseys, dumb expressions, and girth their drunk a lot. Frat guys maybe. Maybe just errant hockey enthusiasts. Two of them are evaluating Levi with lopsided smiles. The other one is leaning down to pick something up off the ground.

Levi follows his motion, looking down just in time to see him pick up his ballet brochure from where it must have slipped out of his pocket.

The one who picked it up- who’s probably got two inches and twenty pounds on the other two, which based on their likely guiding principals makes him their “leader” - squints at the cover and starts to grin like a week old jack-o-lantern. 

“So, which one of you fags dropped your book?”

Levi sighs. Because he really shouldn’t turn around. 

He should get a new magazine, after all he’s already going to need one after it touched that floor, and he should ignore the gorilla because that’s the right thing to do. He should finish his drink and walk home, and have knuckles that are capable of working an expresso machine in the morning and a face that doesn’t make Hanji frown all day and insist on giving him a bandaid or an icepack or something worse. 

But it’s too late for all of that, because he’s already turned around.

He eyes the group levelly and moves to stand up. He half expect to feel a hand on his arm stopping him but there isn’t one. He slips off his stool and stands in front of them.

One of them snorts out a laugh while the other two grin even harder.

“It’s mine.” Levi says.

The “leader” looks down at him, his tiny eyes glinting with amusement under the fog of booze and stupidity. With the same sick expression, he lifts it up, and dangles it up above Levi’s head. 

“So why don’t you take it?”

Levi looks at the magazine, and then back to the drunk’s face. He takes a step forward. The grins expand. 

Levi’s knee slams into the man’s groin. The gorilla doubles over instantly with a shocked gasp, lowering the magazine enough to Levi to easily snatch it before smashing his other knee directly into the man’s now level face.

There’s a sharp snap, a spurt of blood, and the guy’s on the ground, trying to breath through his broken nose, curled into himself like a collapsed house.

Levi raises his foot to smash it down onto the gorilla’s far face, when suddenly someone shoves him to one side. Levi looks up just in time the see Erwin catch the punch that was headed for Levi’s face. He snaps the guy’s arm upward and spins it behind his back in half a second, kicking the back of his knees so he falls down to a kneel with a sharp cry. The last guy is swinging, but Erwin’s there first, leaning back out of the way and snapping a closed fist into the man’s stomach, sending him gasping and folding in on himself. 

Levi swings for him before he can stand back up properly. His small fist connects hard on the meaty jaw and the guy staggers back, crashing into a table and sending the chairs flying.

Levi turns to Erwin as he drops the one he was holding down to the floor and gives him a sharp kick in the ribs for good measure, leaving just their groans filling the space.

“Securities analyst?” Levi frowns.

Erwin cocks an eyebrow. “Zoology major?”

As it turns out, Erwin’s place is only about five blocks uptown from there, and as it turns out Levi feels like walking. Also, the cold actually feels pretty great against the two knuckles he opened up. 

Apparently he might have drank a bit too much because he’s really having to focus on not tumbling to one side. But when he does his shoulder hits Erwin’s arm and Erwin laughs, nudging him back upright so he maybe doesn’t pay as close attention to stopping himself as he should.

Cities always sound different in the cold. When it’s warm the noise hardly shifts from day to night, but when winter settles in the people who you walk by are either too cold to do much else or just drunk enough not to feel temperature and all sound carries sharp on the crisp air. 

Levi’s turning to watch some kid drunkenly plow into a few trashcans a block down when he stumbles into Erwin’s back.

“Oh.”

Erwin’s stopped, rummaging around in his pocket for keys. “This is me.”

“Oh.”

Levi let’s his eyes trace up the building. It’s exactly as nice as he thought it would be. “What a dump.”

Erwin grins where he’s fumbling out his keys. Levi squints. He always seems to smiles when Levi’s being as asshole. It’s dumb. He’s dumb. Big, dumb, librarian.

Levi feels a smile tempt at the corner of his lips and shit he really is drunk.

Erwin gets the door unlocked after what Levi’s suspects is a handful of seconds longer than usual. 

“How’re your knuckles?” Erwin asks over his shoulder.

Levi shrugs, “Been worse.”

That makes him laugh too. Maybe Levi’s not the only one who’s a little drunk.

“Well,” Erwin says, turning, the door half an inch open under his hand.

Levi eases his gloomy eyes up to Erwin’s. “Yeah?”

“Are you working tomorrow?” 

“No.” Levi answers. Barely managing not to follow it up with “thanks to your lame ass wallet and the fact you look about five years older than you are to other people”.

Erwin stares at him evenly. Blue eyes. Fucking of course.

“Do you want to come upstairs for some coffee?”

“Nah, I don’t like coffee, remember?” Levi says. He said that like five hours ago. Did he seriously forget already? Dumb. Dumb, big, librarian.

“Ah, I see.” Erwin says, eyes looking a little less sparkly suddenly. Huh. He must really like coffee. “Well…”

Well… “Night.” Levi slurs, turning around to head back down to street.

Erwin doesn’t say anything, at least Levi doesn’t hear anything. He can’t see because he’s headed down the street but he thinks he heads a door open and shut behind him.

Stupid. Who the fuck drinks coffee this late anyways?

No one.

Oh…

Oh fuck.

“Hey—!” He spins so fast he almost falls but just manages to catch himself. The door is shut. The street is empty.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS - That shark rectum stroke recovery thing is real, a friend of mine who's a pretty badass biologist did that as undergrad work.
> 
> Oh and incase you kids aren't old farts like me, the part at the end is inspired by this moment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-skZx5liyaM


	6. Saturday

Levi wakes up squinting. The sun’s slanting through the blinds exactly right to smash into his eyes and he can’t seem to get it out of his face no matter which way he turns. Which really just perfect.

Levi groans, rolling and pulling a pillow over his head. It doesn’t make a difference. He’s been awake for half an hour already.

With a sigh he sits up on his elbows and instantly regrets it, falling back again as his head starts pounding like a fucking hammer. He’s not going to throw up. If he keeps telling himself that it’s going to be true. And he doesn’t have to work. Because he won the bet.

Levi opens his eyes just enough to glare at the ceiling. 

He makes it upright eventually, showering as much of the hangover off as he can and settling in with some dry toast and a massive glass of orange juice. He stares down at the toast in his hand.

_“Do you want to come upstairs for some coffee.”_

_“Nah, I don’t like coffee.”_

Levi drops the toast, and leans his head on the table with a groan.

Idiot. He’s a complete idiot.

What’s he going to do with himself? Nothing. He has the day off. That’s what day’s off are for. He doesn’t have to do anything. He doesn’t want to do anything. He doesn’t want to go down to the cafe to see who shows up. He doesn’t want to go to the park and see if anyone’s waiting.

Why would he be anyways?

_“Ah, I see. Well…”_

He can still see the way his eyes emptied just enough to notice. The small frown when he turned back to the door with new focus.

Levi picks his head up just enough that he can drop it down on the table again.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t a date. He knows that. It’s a good thing. All this really means is he’s not going to have to work all those holiday weekends. That’s what he wanted isn’t it? After all who the fuck is going to flirt with someone who so obviously rejects them. Even if it was a mistake.

Eventually he manages to get back to his feet.

He cleans the apartment. Twice. It’s not all that big. But by two he’s running out of surfaces, and then it’s just him, alone, still. And for some reason he can’t stop thinking about that stupid disappointed expression on his face.

So he cleans the hallway. Then the stairwell. Then the lobby. Studying. Dinner. In bed by ten. Thrilling Saturday. Thank god he’s going to have so many more free.


	7. Sunday

“Hey, what the hell are you doing here? You’re not on the schedule until one.” Hanji says turning over her shoulder.

“What time is it?” Levi frowns, hanging up his coat behind the counter.

Hanji narrows her eyes. “You always know what time it is.”

“Apparently not.” Levi says, tying the apron round his waist and grabbing a cloth off the counter. “And I’ve told you enough times, if you use these to wipe up milk you have to wash them _immediately_.” 

Hanji ignores him, turning back to their customer.

He isn’t that early. It’s only noon. Maybe a little before noon, but she should be grateful if anything. 

Levi takes a moment to glance up at the rest of the cafe while he cleans out her rag. 

“He’s not here.” Hanji says.

“Who?” Levi feigns.

Hanji narrows her eyes. “He hasn’t been in all morning. And he wasn’t here yesterday. That’s the first Saturday he hasn’t come in four weeks you know.”

“No, I don’t know.” Levi says. “Because I actually have reasonable respect for customer privacy.”

“Is that right?” Hanji crosses her arms. “And what did you get up to yesterday?”

“I took a shit.”

“I tried calling you, wanted to see if maybe you were bored after two days off in a row.”

“Yeah. I was in fucking despair.”

“I thought maybe you’d found someone to spend some time with.”

Levi focuses on the milk steamer. No one ever cleans it properly when he’s not there and after two days in a row without his care it’s a disaster.

“So?” Hanji presses.

“So, what?”

“So,” She grins, “Did I win?” 

The milk’s not coming off. It’s baked on there like fucking frozen carmel. He scrubs harder.

“Welllll?” She inches closer.

It like glue, fucking industrial strength Looney Tunes glue. How the hell did they let it get like this? Is he the only one who is capable of meeting the most basic hygiene standard around here.

“Levvviiiiiiiiii?”

“NO!” He suddenly yells. “You didn’t fucking win!”

Her eyes go wide and she takes a step back.

“And you know what?” Levi continues through his teeth. “You’re not going to fucking win! You were never going to fucking win because it’s a _fucking stupid bet!”_

Hanji takes a step back. “Levi—“

“I don’t know what the fuck you thought was so _reasonable_ about it or why all of you seem to think it’s something that it was even remotely likely. But it’s not. It wasn’t. It’s bullshit. It’s a massive fucking load of steaming bullshit that’s not going to happen and was never going to happen.”

“Levi, I didn’t—“

“And even if it did happen, _which it didn’t_ , I don’t know what kind of fucking idiot you’d have to be to think that it would be anything that I wouldn’t fuck up. And why wouldn’t I want to fuck it up? Why would I even give a shit? He’s just some tweedy douche-bag up in his fucking ivory tower who thinks it’s cute to cut his hair like a SS officer and dress like the prohibition never ended. He thinks he’s so fucking smart and that he’s _so_ goddamn sexy and he’s just not. _He’s. Fucking. Not.”_

It goes very quiet. 

Hanji’s staring at him. The girl waiting at the counter is staring at him. The entire line is staring at him.

He’s starting to realize he’s breathing a little harder than he should be. He also probably shouldn’t be holding the steamer that tightly. Or speaking that loudly. And he actually can’t remember the last time he said that many words in a row…

“Levi…” Hanji tries gently, holding out a hand up apparently still thinking it’s a good idea to keep a safe distance. “Do you need to go lie down?”

He’s still trying to remember exactly what he said. He looks down, very carefully unwinding his fingers from the steamer. He opened the cut on the back on one knuckle again.

“Um… can I get a cappuccino?” the blond girl at the counter asks quietly.

The self hatred only keeps it’s most sever levels for the next three hours. By the time four o’clock rolls around he’s almost been able to scour his brain of any memory of what actually made it’s way out of his mouth. Hanji doesn’t speak to him for the rest of the shift, which he should be more grateful for than he is.

By six rolls most of the crowd is gone. He’s organizing the shelves for the third time that week. He’s convinced they move them around on his days off just to drive him insane.

“Um, Levi?”

He glances up, look blank. “Are you going to congratulate me?”

Hanji frowns. “It was a stupid bet. I didn’t realize—”

“No take backs. A bet’s a bet.” He says sharply. “And I win.”

Hanji looks somehow more uncomfortable.

Levi sighs, “If you don’t want to work the weekends we can split them.”

“No,” She insists, shaking her head, “It’s fine. I actually like working holiday weekends. It’s a nice distraction.”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “From what?”

“Studying. You know, some mindless tasks to let all the information settle in.”

Levi sighs, turning back to the counter. “God, you’re boring.”

He thinks she smiles. “Are you good?”

“I can close. You can get back to that thrilling lifestyle.”

She opens her mouth like she’s going to say “that’s not what I meant”. But she doesn’t. He’s not sure wether or not he’s glad. She stands there quietly for a moment longer and then suddenly reaches out and tugs him into a hug. The air shoots out his chest before he can tell her to get off of him.

“You’re the best, you know that?” she mutters into the top of his head.

He tries to shove her off, but maybe not as hard as he should. “I’ve told you not to drink at work.”

He feels her laugh. She lets him go finally, stepping back. “I hope you enjoy your weekends.”

He rolls his eyes, ignore her until she adjusts her bag over her shoulder and waves as she leaves.

It’s cold outside. It’s late. It’s Sunday. No one’s coming in, but he doesn’t lock the door yet. He fixes the shelves. He cleans the floor. He finally manages to pry whatever the hell Mike trapped behind the cash register out and cover it in a bag before he has too much time to consider what it is on it’s way to the garbage.

He glances up at the clock. It’s an hour past closing. He has class at 9AM. Some exam. He forgets what on.

He looks at the door. It doesn’t open.

The cafe’s locked up by eleven. It’s a cold walk home, but he doesn’t mind. Sometimes the cold just feels right.


	8. Monday (Again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS!

“You’re late,” Hanji calls over her shoulder, handing change back to the customer as Levi shoves his way behind the counter.

“I’m aware.”

“How was the test?” Petra asks as she’s shoving extra milk and cream into the mini-fridge.

_Horrible._

“Fine.”

“Lair.” Hanji narrows her eyes.

“Shut up.” He grumbles, trying to pretend that he didn’t try to take his coat off too fast and that his arm isn’t stuck in the sleeve.

He gives the thing a firm tug and it hurries off, right onto the hook and his scarf and hat along with them.

“What are you still doing here?” Levi asks Hanji.

“You were late.” She says simply.

“And what the fuck is that?” He glares above the cash register. There’s a small sprig of mistletoe tied up above the counter with a little red ribbon.

“Are we selling sexual harassment now?”

“I think it’s festive.” Petra smiles.

“What is?” Mike asks, turning around the counter bundled up to clinical levels as the door swings shut behind him.

Hanji points above her.

“Aw, that’s a great idea!” Mike says and the instantly scoops Hanji up under her legs, plops her down on the counter and gives her a solid kiss on the cheek as she laughs and shoves him off. 

“Merry Christmas!” Mike beams, cheeks still ruddy from the cold.

“It’s not fucking Christmas.” Levi grumbles.

“Don’t be such a grinch,” Hanji insists, giving Mike a push and getting off the counter.

“He’s just jealous,” Mike grins, “Don’t worry Levi, your time will come.”

“I swear to god I will take your kneecaps off with barbecue tongs.”

Mike grins, shrugging his coat off his shoulders. “Tease.”

Levi huffs, tying his apron behind his back. “I’m here now. You’ll be late for class if you don’t get moving.”

“Oh shit, right,” Hanji scurries off to one side, shoving Mike out of the way to get her coat and those stupid mittens that look like penguins that have gone through some biological experiment horror. “Get the counter!”

Levi groans, “Petra…”

“Sort of busy, sorry,” She calls, weighed down by a coffee bean bag half her size.

Levi closes his eyes firmly for a moment and the moves to the counter. There’s a smug looking kid waiting with a haircut that looks two digits too expensive.

“Can I get a gingerbread latte?”

Levi stares. “Excuse me…”

“A gingerbread latte.” The kid repeats firmly.

“We don’t do that.”

“What, seriously? Not even for the holidays?” The kid frowns, “They do it down the road.”

“So go down the road.” Levi says blankly.

“But I’m here now.”

“Life can be challenging.”

The kid narrows his eyes. “Cocoa.”

Levi doesn’t blink. “Three-nineteen.”

The kid fumbles into the pocket of his rainbow Burton jacket. Levi wonders if he’s even seen a snowboard before. He enjoys a small moment imaging the brat unable to stop a spiraling roll down an icy black diamond.

“Is that mistletoe?” The kid asks with an eyebrow raised.

Levi takes his money. “No.”

“… It totally looks like mistletoe.”

Levi shoves his change back. “That will be ready in a few minutes.”

The kid eyes the sprig skeptically for another moment before finally moving down towards Petra’s more customer appealing attitude. She’s probably offering to put a fucking peppermint shot in his drink to appease the need for “cheer”. 

“What do you want?” Levi sighs, staring down at the register and adjusting a few things as he hears the next customer move into place.

“Gingerbread Latte, please.”

Levi looks up instantly.

Erwin can’t seem to help smiling. Even if he is a few steps further back from the counter than usual and there’s something a little hesitant about the way he’s looking at him.

“Sounds horrible doesn’t it?” Erwin tries.

Levi realizes he may have been staring in silence a couple of seconds too long and crosses his arms tightly in front of his chest. “Sounds like hot shit. Literally.”

Erwin laughs softly, adjusting his gloves and looking away.

It goes quiet. Erwin glances behind the counter and Levi follows his gaze, just in time to catch Mike, Petra, and Hanji all staring at them before the self-awareness kicks in and they actually make an attempt to pretend they’re doing something else.

“This might have not been a good idea…” Erwin mutters.

“What wasn’t?” Levi says a little too quickly.

Erwin looks up at him. Levi holds his eyes and tries harder than he should have to not to glare. He almost convinces himself to try and smile but he’s 90% sure he’s going to look like a serial killer explaining why all the organs had to be lined up on the chain link fence in alphabetical order, so he doesn’t attempt it.

Erwin reaches inside his coat and pulls out two slips of paper, placing them down on the counter under his hand.

“Tickets.” Erwin says, voice slightly shorter than usual. “Saturday. I thought— if you’d like…”

Levi looks down at them. “Ballet tickets.”

“That’s right.”

Levi frowns down at them. He looks up at Erwin and glances him over. “Do I have to dress like that.”

Behind him he’s pretty sure he hear’s Hanji start “oh come on!” before someone - likely Mike - smothers her with her own mittens.

Erwin starts to smile. “I have my own box. You can wear whatever you want.” He glances down. “Even that.”

Levi can’t help quirking the corner of his lips for half a second.

“So?” Erwin tries again. “Well, unless you don’t like ballet, which I might understand, after all someone who hates coffee and works in a cafe might just carry around a NYC Ballet brochure and harbor some secret deep seeded—“

Levi kisses him.

And he has no idea why. It’s a pretty stupid thing to do really: forward and assuming and likely pretty close to something almost romantic which is definitely not something he would do. And he’s not really sure how he got there so fast since he apparently had to plant both his hands on the counter and hoist himself up so his shoes weren’t even touching the wooden floors anymore just to reach.

But he did reach, he must have, because he feels lips still in surprise as their words are stolen midstream and they’re still for a moment, just a moment, before they settle into something soft and warm, pushing back against Levi’s in a way that might have seemed almost chaste if his lips weren’t open just slightly.

Levi pulls back, putting his feet very firmly back on the floor. He certainly doesn’t hold onto the counter because his head’s a little misty, and he’s and not blushing. Definitely, definitely not blushing.

Erwin’s still standing there lips slightly open, stare half focused as if he’s not exactly sure what just happened.

Levi gestures upwards weakly. “Mistletoe.”

“Ah. Right.” Erwin shuts his mouth, blue eyes flicking upward. “Festive.”

Hanji makes a noise. Mike smothers it.

The kid _still_ waiting for his cocoa grumbles something inaudible as he rolls his eyes.

Levi looks down at the counter. He reaches out with thin fingers and slides one of the tickets out from under Erwin’s larger hand. 

“Saturday?”

Erwin looks down at the tickets. “Right. Saturday. Oh—“ 

He looks up as if he’s just remembered something. He glances over at the others and a grin sneaks across his cheeks. “That is, unless you’re working Saturdays.”

Levi looks up instantly. And suddenly he realizes it’s Monday. It’s been a week. No… a week and one day. 

The others stare, looking satisfyingly equal parts stunned and scandalized.

Levi can’t letting a small smile steal across his face. He tucks the ticket into his back pocket. “No, actually I have holiday weekends free.”

Erwin winks. “Lucky me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was tons of fun but I really wrote it as a warmup for a [SNK Ballet AU ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1101464), which I started posting today, so check that out if you'd like. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, I'm glad so many of you enjoyed the story!


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